The Worst Thing
by Gillian Middleton
Summary: Part Six of the Cute As... series. Rodney & John still have a few things to sort out.


**The Worst Thing**

by Gillian Middleton

John woke to a familiar tap tapping sound, and squinted across the room to his desk. Rodney was sitting cross legged on the padded chair, pecking away at his datapad. He was wearing his t-shirt and shorts and John stared muzzily, idly appreciating the pretty curve of his legs.

"Wotcha doing?' he said around a yawn.

"Go back to sleep," Rodney ordered, not lifting his head. "It's barely 5 AM."

John seriously considered obeying, but now he was awake his bladder was sending him signals that he couldn't ignore. "Gotta pee," he said, sitting up and rubbing at his chin, eyes sleepily wandering the floor, looking for his shorts.

"Hmm," Rodney said absently.

John found his tangled shorts and pulled them up, glancing over at Rodney again as he stood. This was not the morning-after he would have pictured, if he'd thought that far ahead, but strangely it was one he was pretty comfortable with. He wandered to the bathroom, ruffling Rodney's curls on the way past and receiving another absent grunt in response.

After taking care of business John washed his hands and decided to brush his teeth, the half of his brain that was actually conscious trying to calculate the odds of scoring a little morning glory with his new lover.

Huh. Lover.

John stood in the doorway and stared at Rodney again, idly scratching his belly and yawning.

Lover. Rodney.

That was pretty weird.

"So, what are you doing?" he asked, because it was way the fuck too early to start thinking about stuff like consequences and motives.

"Hmm?" Rodney tapped at the keypad a few more times before looking up. "Oh, I woke up with an idea. It happens, so you better get used to it."

John thought about that, licking at the inside of his mouth where a speck of toothpaste still lingered. "So, we gonna be doing this again?"

Rodney glanced over at him with a deliberately casual expression and a spot of red in each cheek, and it was pretty obvious that he wasn't as cool about this as he was trying to make out. "Yes?" Rodney said casually, making it an answer and a question. Putting the ball squarely back in his court, John thought admiringly.

"Yes," he returned firmly, and Rodney's mouth quirked into a small, pleased smile, before he bent back to his work, curls tumbling over his brow. Figuring this was where the incredibly early session with the toothbrush paid off, John quietly took the necessary couple of steps and stroked the stray curls back with one long finger. Rodney's hands froze over the keypad, his breath catching.

But he didn't pull away, so John teased a curl behind one ear and smoothed the soft, fragrant mass to one side, exposing the nape of Rodney's neck.

"What are you doing?" Rodney said weakly as John indulged himself with a small hair-snuffle before kissing the baby soft skin of Rodney's neck. "Oh!"

John let his lips wander down to the loose neckline of Rodney's shirt and nuzzled sleep warm skin, his hands stroking down narrow shoulders. "What time did you say it was?" John asked, voice muffled as he pushed aside the well-worn fabric, revealing the flushed skin of Rodney's shoulder.

"Early," Rodney stuttered, tilting his head, arms crossing in front of him, hands finding John's and clutching them. "Really really early."

"How's your idea?" John murmured, exerting the tiniest amount of pressure and bringing Rodney to his feet.

"What idea?" Rodney said, as John found the hem of his t-shirt and slid one hand over smooth, heaving belly. He threw his head back and groaned as John stroked him, gasping and panting as long fingers insinuated themselves beneath the waistband of his shorts and teased soft, wiry curls. Then Rodney was turning in John's hold and flinging arms around his neck, and this time John was ready when Rodney leapt, wrapping shapely legs around his waist.

"I like this idea better anyway," John managed, before Rodney was kissing the living daylights out of him all over again. He staggered backwards and collapsed onto the bed, unable to help laughing as he struggled to contain the squirming creature that Rodney had morphed into. "Hold on, hold on," he panted, grabbing at narrow shoulders and pushing him away.

Rodney frowned ferociously at him through a cloud of curls. "What?"

"It's not a race, you know?" John said, gentling his hold and stroking down Rodney's arms. "Or a battle either."

"I know," Rodney said, sounding aggrieved. "I'm just used to being on top that's all."

"And I have no objection to you being on top," John said, by which he meant Rodney on top was a huge turn-on. "But can we slow down a little? Enjoy it?"

Rodney sat back, which had the double bonus of his round little butt pressing down on John's groin, and his perfect little boobs bobbing delightfully under the thin t-shirt. John couldn't help losing his focus for a second and Rodney snorted. "You are such a man," he said, and John was pretty sure it wasn't meant as a compliment. Next time he looked at Rodney's face however it was to see Rodney smirking, one eyebrow raised thoughtfully. "You want me to slow down?" he said, stroking his hands down the front of his shirt in a way that made Sheppard's mouth go dry. "I can do slow."

John watched mesmerized as Rodney teased with the hem of his t-shirt for a moment before sliding his hands back up and cupping his breasts. Rodney's tongue darted out to moisten his lips as his hands squeezed soft breasts, just a little, before stroking his thumbs over hard nipples.

"Okay, slow is good," Sheppard said, eyes wide. "I am all about the slow here."

"You like that?" Rodney said throatily. He pinched his nipples through the worn fabric and both of them groaned in concert. "I do this all the time when I'm on my own," he confided, and John had to reach down between his legs and grab his cock to keep from just coming right then.

"You are so easy!" Rodney crowed and Sheppard could only nod in agreement.

"I am when you do that," he said and Rodney looked surprised and then delighted.

"I am totally in control," he said firmly, then he consolidated that power forever by grabbing the hem of his shirt and ripping it over his head.

"God," Sheppard muttered, smoothing his hands over Rodney's narrow ribcage and up over those mesmerizing breasts. "God, Rodney, this is so hot."

"I know," Rodney said in amazement. "And all the times I did this in my room? I was thinking of being right here with you like this."

"You were?" Sheppard shook his head. "I can't believe I fought this for so long. I'm an idiot."

"You were being a good friend," Rodney said, his eyes half closing and his words slurring as John gently squeezed and then plucked at his nipples. "Now be a better friend and get your mouth up here," he ordered, and John would have saluted if his hands weren't so busy rolling Rodney underneath him so he could do as he was told.

Turned out Rodney coming the night before just from having John suckling at him was not a fluke, something he proved beyond a shadow of a doubt just a few minutes later. John took advantage of Rodney's aftermath of mindless pleasure to strip off both their shorts and start exploring the body he'd barely had a chance to get his hands on the night before.

Rodney sighed and squirmed as John pressed kisses to the soft, pale skin of his belly, down to the silky curls between his legs.

"Wait," Rodney said, smoothing one hand through John's hair. "I want to..." He tugged John up, kissing his mouth, the bristled curve of his jaw, down to his throat. John closed his eyes and moaned as Rodney's hand found his cock and stroked firmly.

"Yeah," he muttered, but Rodney wasn't finished yet. He pressed John back and did some exploring of his own, dropping a scatter of kisses down John's breastbone, onto one flat nipple, one hand still busily pumping John's cock, the other finding his balls and gently squeezing them. And then John felt a rasp of warm breath and he peeled his eyes open to see Rodney between his legs, hand still lazily working, eyes thoughtful. "You don't have to," John said, while inside he was thinking _pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_.

Rodney snorted again, obviously reading his mind. "Right," he said, then he was opening his mouth and the rest of the world kind of whited out for John right there.

888

John strolled down the halls of his city towards the Jumper Bay, whistling under his breath. A couple of his guys nodded respectfully to him as they passed and he nodded acknowledgement. He'd never been real big on saluting. Vandeleur from Astrobiology smiled at him and he smiled back, resisting the urge to turn and follow her curvy rear with his eyes as she strolled past. It was pretty unprofessional and besides, he had a curvy rear all his own now, to admire whenever he felt like it.

It didn't take much to make a simple man happy, John reflected as he listened to Zelenka's report on the state of the Jumpers. A job of work to do, good people around him. Regular sex.

It had been two weeks since he and Rodney had started sleeping together, and none of the problems that Rodney had hinted at but never really listed seemed to have occurred. Most of that John attributed to Rodney still firmly being himself, despite his female body and very definite female sexual urges.

Sheppard glazed over for a few minutes during the last of Radek's explanations, pondering the joys and mysteries of Rodney's female sexual urges. The most prominent of which was his sexual appetite, which did something John would have once thought impossible and actually eclipsed his appetite for food.

The other was his complete lack of female faults: i.e. - he didn't feel the need to talk about his feelings, criticize Sheppard for not talking about his feelings, or require pretty much any effort on John's part to build that most scared of female ambitions - a relationship.

In fact, female sexual urges aside, Rodney was still pretty much a guy when it came to actual sex. He liked it hot, fast and plentiful. While not adverse to cuddles they weren't a major priority until after he'd come at least twice, although John was smugly aware that his average was three times a night so far. And while they hadn't actually achieved penetration yet, Sheppard was pretty sure it was only a matter time before Rodney's innate curiosity over rode whatever nervousness he might still be feeling on the subject.

Besides, Rodney had mastered the art of oral sex, both giving and receiving, and like most men John would be hard pressed to choose between fucking or a good blow-job. (By which he meant great blow-job; to John's delight Rodney was as competitive at sex as he was at work. In fact he wouldn't rest until an exhausted Sheppard had assured him that he had now achieved the Best. Blow-job. Ever. Telling him that had totally been worth Rodney's smug glow for the last week.)

Zelenka rode along as they put the repaired Jumper through her paces and John spent a pleasant half an hour swooping around the edges of his city, admiring the play of light on the glass spires and shining towers as the Jumper responded to his every thought.

Yeah, the simple pleasure were the best.

Radek looked a little queasy when they touched back down, and John patted him absently on the back and then caught him as the smaller man oofed and turned a little greener. As the Czech scientist hurried off John decided he'd earned a cup of coffee and headed for the nearest transporter to the Science Section. By now Rodney was probably ready for a mug or two himself.

Rodney was peering intently at a large screen, flanked by two scientists who had arrived on the Daedalus the month before, and John paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt.

"It's definitely a pulsar," the younger one said excitedly.

"And we're pretty sure, from the systematic variation in the arrival time of the pulses that it's in binary orbit with another star," the older one interjected.

"Just like PSR B1913+16," the younger one crowed.

"Don't get ahead of yourselves," Rodney advised repressively. "No one's rushing to name this after you quite yet."

"The Henderson-Spiegel binary," the younger one said dreamily.

"Spiegel-Henderson," the older corrected.

"Henderson-Spiegel is alphabetical."

"I'm older than you," Spiegel said hotly. "My name should come first!"

"Taylor was older than Hulse," Henderson pointed out. "But they still called it the Hulse-Taylor binary."

"Gentlemen," Rodney interrupted sarcastically. "Before we start arguing over who speaks first at the Nobel Prize Awards, can we focus on proving your theory? Science is about results - not petty glory-mongering."

The two scientist looked a little shame-faced and John had to step out in the hall and cover his mouth to stop laughing. He'd never met a bigger glory-hound than Rodney, so it was a little rich for the man to start lecturing his colleagues on the matter now.

When John looked back in Rodney was still absorbed in the screen and the trio were throwing around terms like Doppler shifting and gravitational waves and inspiral. John decided to leave them to it, but he couldn't resist one last look at Rodney, face lit up by the screen, eyes lit up with pleasure for the work he loved.

That's my girlfriend, John thought proudly. Or possibly my boyfriend, the jury's still out on that one.

888

"What's up with McKay?" Ronon said around a mouthful of sandwich.

John thought about that for a moment. "In what sense?"

Ronon chewed and swallowed, chasing the massive bite with a gulp of water. "I was getting my arm looked at in the infirmary this morning," he elaborated, brandishing his new cast like a weapon. "And he was in the back under a scanner."

John paused, coffee mug halfway to his lips. "A scanner? Which scanner?"

Ronon frowned. "I don't know. The one that looks at your insides."

"Huh. He never mentioned anything."

"I'm sure it is nothing," Teyla said calmly. "If Dr McKay were ill he would surely have mentioned it."

"And mentioned it and mentioned it." Ronon grinned.

"Yeah," John agreed, sipping thoughtfully from his mug.

888

"So, Doc," John said casually, fiddling with a box of surgical gloves. "How are you settling in?"

Dr Keller leaned back in her chair and smiled. "It has been six months," she reminded him. "I'm pretty much settled in."

"Oh, has it been that long?" John said vaguely, glancing towards the back of the infirmary where Ronon had seen Rodney under a scanner. "Time flies, doesn't it?"

Keller reached out and removed the box from his hands and set it on her desk. "Can I help you, Colonel?' she said politely. "Only I'd think you were tired of this infirmary by now. You certainly seem eager enough to leave after your routine medical checks."

John focused on her tired looking face and frowned, noting the lines of strain around her eyes. "You know that's nothing personal, Doc, right?' he said, dropping into a chair opposite her. "I mean, like you said, I've spent a lot of time here over the years, and most of it has been pretty unpleasant."

Keller shrugged and smiled again, this time a little more genuinely. "I've read your reports. They make for hair-raising bedtime reading."

"You should have tried it from my side," Sheppard joked. It couldn't have been easy, he supposed, stepping into Carson's shoes. He'd been so focused on losing his friend that it had never really occurred to him how hard it must be for her. "You know, Carson was a great guy. And a hell of a doctor."

Keller's smile turned into a grimace for a split second before smoothing back out. "I know."

"But you're doing okay filling his shoes," he continued. "I can't think of anyone who could do better. I trust you with my team, my friends. With Atlantis."

Keller blinked at him. "Uh, thanks," she said.

Sheppard shrugged, it was only the truth. "No problem. Listen, speaking of my team, was Rodney in here this morning?"

The doctor looked surprised. "Dr McKay? She was here briefly."

"Getting scanned?"

"Colonel Sheppard, you know I can't discuss a patient with you."

"Rodney's a patient?"

"You're all my patients." Keller stood up and glanced pointedly at her watch. "And if you don't mind, I have rounds to do."

"But Rodney," Sheppard said, standing and allowing himself to be herded to the door. "Why was he here? What were you scanning him for?"

"Please, Colonel Sheppard," Keller said patiently. "It might be best if you talked to Dr McKay herself about this. Now, I really must go."

"Himself," John corrected under his breath as she nodded and walked away. "And I'm seriously rethinking that trust thing."

888

"Where's McKay?"

Radek looked up from his screen. "No idea. Eating probably, I don't think he stopped for lunch yet."

John glanced at his watch, it was almost two. "Thanks, Radek." He turned, then stopped and turned back. "Hey, Radek? Is Rodney okay?"

"In what sense?" Radek said, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes.

John shrugged. "I don't know. Has he said anything to you about not feeling well lately?"

"When Rodney is sick everyone knows it," Radek said firmly. "Although..."

"Yeah?"

The Czech frowned thoughtfully. "He seemed to have problems with stomach yesterday. I told him he ate too much, but he said it was women's problems so I didn't say anything else."

"Women's problems?"

Radek smirked. "He says that about everything now. He thinks it makes me embarrassed, but I tell him, I have three sisters and we used to share a room growing up. There's nothing he can tell me about women's problems I don't know about."

"You have my sympathies," John said sincerely. Rodney was pretty vehement about the subject of menstruation and John had learned to tune him out in sheer self defense. Of course that was a trick he'd learned long before Rodney became a women, it was just one that still came in handy now for a whole host of new reasons.

888

Sheppard spent the rest of the afternoon arranging duty rosters and dealing with a conflict that had arisen between two members of an off-world team. With his usual laid-back management style he sat back and let the two men yell at each other for a while, but the abuse and name calling just reminded him of Rodney and the worries pressing at the back of his mind.

Was Rodney sick? Surely Teyla was right, if Rodney had a problem his team usually knew about it pretty quickly and then heard about it ad nauseum until it went away or a new, more irritating one replaced it. It was one of Rodney's more well known traits. But Sheppard couldn't help thinking, what if this was more than one of his petty complaints? What if there was something seriously wrong?

By five o'clock and three more casual visits to the labs he couldn't take it any more. "McKay, where are you?" he said into his head piece.

Sheppard heard a moments static that sounded like Rodney fumbling with his radio. "Can't talk now, busy."

"Are you in your quarters? Rodney?"

"Is Atlantis sinking?" Rodney said irritably. "In imminent danger of being blown up? Are there Wraith on our doorstep?"

"No, but," John began.

"Then leave me alone," Rodney snapped, and the radio went dead in his ear.

"Fine," Sheppard said. "Leaving you alone. Roger." He stepped in a transporter and touched the screen. "I know when I'm not wanted," he continued under his breath, waiting for the doors to open and heading down the hall. "Don't have to tell John Sheppard twice, nosiree bob." He stopped outside a door and hammered on it. "Rodney, open the door and let me the hell in!"

For a moment there was silence and he seriously considered just opening the door himself, but a second later it opened with a swoosh and he stomped inside. The room was dim and Rodney was stretched out on his side, facing away from him.

"Hey, Rodney," he said. "Did I come at a bad time?"

Rodney pulled the pillow out and buried his head under it. "Why me?" he appealed. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Sheppard felt himself relax a little at the irritated tone. For a terrifying minute he'd thought Rodney was crying, and he would honestly prefer to face a big ugly Wraith in a bad mood than a crying girlfriend. Boyfriend. Whatever.

"Hey, you leapt on me the first time, remember?" Sheppard reminded him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You gotta take everything that goes with that."

"But all I wanted was sex and cuddles," Rodney complained from under his pillow.

"Look, if I'm interrupting nap-time, just say so and I'll leave."

"You're interrupting Rodney-time," Rodney said, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up. His hair was adorably ruffled and he even looked cute glaring fiercely. "Leave."

"Nope," Sheppard said, hauling himself up the bed and leaning back comfortably against the headboard. "I have a few questions for you."

"I already heard your questions. Dr Blondie called to tell me you've been checking up on me, ever heard of doctor patient confidentiality?"

"Her name is Keller," Sheppard said. "I think she's getting a little tired of being treated like a newcomer."

"And then Radek called to ask me if I was okay. Even Ronon dropped by to grunt something monosyllabic through the door."

"That was nice of him," John noted. "You could have let him in. I think he wants you to write something on his cast."

Rodney surveyed him seriously. "Why are you stalking me?"

John didn't deny the charge. "Because I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

"Can't a man have a nap in peace?" Rodney said in exasperation, but his eyes slid away.

John's uneasy feeling increased. "I have known you for three years," he pointed out. "I have never known you to take a nap."

"Then I think I'm about due," Rodney snarked, flinging himself back down on his side. "Close the door on your way out."

John was actually starting to panic a little now. There was something off in Rodney's responses, in the fact that he'd turned away when Rodney never turned his back on a good argument. Part of him didn't want to hear this. Part of him wanted to let that door close behind him and go about his business, and the next time he saw Rodney it would be when he wanted sex or cuddles and everything would be easy and light.

But a thousand thoughts were streaming through his head, nightmare scenarios and memories of sickrooms and kindly nurses and Genii refugees dying in Carson's infirmary.

"Was it the radiation?" Sheppard asked, forcing the words around the lump in his throat. "Because Lilya grew up on the Genii home world?"

Rodney was silent and still, he looked like he was barely breathing as he lay there, still facing away.

Dread solidified inside Sheppard. "Are you sick, Rodney? Is it... Is it cancer?"

"I'm not sick," Rodney said, his voice low.

"I don't believe you." John reached out and laid a hand on one narrow shoulder. Sometimes Rodney was this powerhouse in his life, his arms, his bed. But other times he seemed so small and fragile. So breakable. "Please, Rodney."

Rodney sighed and turned under his hand, peering up at him through a tangle of curls. "I'm not sick," he repeated. "But, there is... damage. Radiation damage."

John nodded numbly, his chest tight. Rodney pushed himself up and curled his legs under him.

"I was going to tell you," he said. "But when I first found out everything was still new and all I was worried about was the turning into a girl thing. Nothing else the doctor was saying really got through. And then by the time I did start to really think about it..."

"What damage?" John interrupted, needing to hear the worst.

"Chronic radiation syndrome," Rodney said bluntly.

John didn't think he said anything, but maybe he got a bit pale because Rodney suddenly looked alarmed and reached out to grab his forearm.

"Hey, it's okay," he assured him. "It's not that unexpected when you think about it. A lifetime growing up in an underground city with poor radiation shielding."

"Are you," John's voice sounded strangled to his own ears. "Is it..."

"Sheppard?" Rodney said, both hands grabbing his forearms now. "It's not as bad as it sounds. It's not cancer or anything."

John listened and studied Rodney's sincere face.

"Radiation poisoning sounds pretty bad," he said painfully.

"It's not the same as radiation poisoning," Rodney corrected. "That's acute radiation syndrome which is a large dosage of radiation in a short period. Chronic radiation syndrome is smaller doses over a longer time. It sucks but it's not going to kill me."

John frowned, wanting to believe it.

"Really," Rodney said, smiling crookedly. "I promise I'm not dying. I-"

John didn't give him a chance to finish, he couldn't help the rush of heady relief that drove him. He wrapped his arms around Rodney and pulled him into his arms, breathing in the welcome fragrance of military issue soap and chocolate power bars. And Rodney, clean and warm and soft in his arms.

Rodney squirmed for a second, then relaxed into the hug like he always did, patting at Sheppard's shoulder as if he were an unruly puppy. "I'm okay," he murmured and John nodded blindly against his shoulder, believing it.

"You scared the crap outta me," John muttered.

"Huh," Rodney said.

John pulled back, the first rush of relief being replaced with questions. "So it's not cancer then?"

Rodney shook his head. "No, not cancer. I..." He took a deep breath, clutching at John's uniform shirt. "I'm infertile."

John absorbed this, breath catching in shock. "God. How?"

"The doctor found it pretty much straight away when she scanned me those first times," Rodney explained, hands restlessly smoothing over John's chest. "Turns out my, I mean Lilya's ovaries and uterus just didn't develop. Apparently it's common in long-term exposure survivors. Even on Earth, women who were treated with radiation therapy as kids can develop the same way. Or fail to develop I should say."

John frowned thoughtfully, the implications setting in. "Is it dangerous? Can there be complications later on?"

"It can be... uncomfortable now and then. And they have to check me pretty often for cell mutation."

So the danger wasn't over yet. But Rodney was still here and he wasn't dying. They could deal with anything else as it came along. It was what they did best after all. John caught at Rodney's restless hands and held them gently in his own. "You okay?" he asked, and he wasn't talking about being sick this time.

"Sure," Rodney said, shrugging. "It's not like I was planning on having babies any time soon, right? And even if I had been, they wouldn't really be my babies, would they? They wouldn't have my DNA. Jeannie wouldn't be their aunt, Madison wouldn't be their cousin."

Rodney was talking fast like he always did when he wanted to cover something up, or gloss over some trauma. And John let him, a different sort of pain in his chest at pale cheeks and shiny eyes. All those implications were still settling in, and it surprised him a bit, that tinge of grief he was feeling now. Because it's not like he was planning on fathering babies any time soon himself, let alone with Rodney. But all the same, the idea that it would never happen now, that it could never happen now...

It made him ache a little bit. John could only imagine how Rodney must be feeling about it.

John gave into the impulse and pulled Rodney closer again, not into a fierce embrace this time, just a smaller, gentler one. And, like always, Rodney relaxed against him, head resting on John's shoulder with a sigh.

"It's just,"' Rodney murmured softly. "It's just one more choice, you know? Taken out of my hands. One more thing I didn't have any power over."

John nodded his understanding. "I'm sorry, Rodney."

Rodney's hands clutched a little tighter and he buried his face in John's neck. His cheeks were damp, but that was okay, because it turned out that Rodney giving into a few tears wasn't the worst thing that could happen after all.

888

"My mother died of cancer," John confided, a long time later as they lay back on the bed together. Rodney lifted his head and gazed at him sadly.

"I'm sorry."

John nodded.

"I guess that's why you were so freaked?" Rodney said tentatively.

"You can't fight it," John explained. "You can't take a gun or a knife or your fists to it. You're just helpless, watching the person that you love..."

Rodney blinked at him and John curved his hand around a smooth cheek and pulled his lover's head back down onto his chest.

"Yeah," John said quietly. "I guess that's why I was so freaked."

End of Part Six


End file.
